


The Siren's Lullaby

by MarsMars



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Female Reader Pronouns, Freeform Siren Lore, Other Borderlands Characters will show up later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18610120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsMars/pseuds/MarsMars
Summary: The Calypso twins have it all: power, fame, an army, a cult, and a plan. They struck fear and awe among their followers and those who dared to defy them in Promethea. Tyreen and Troy felt there was no one that could get in their way.That is until their new prisoner turned their life upside down.Have they met their match?





	The Siren's Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta Read, a lot of errors around. 
> 
> Content warning: Mentions of blood, vomiting, cursing, shock punishment, extreme self-harm

Flashes of red and yellow overtook the barren wasteland, screams of horror, bones cracking, the putrid smell of melting skin, and a maniacal laughter hit his mind hard. Panic rose in his chest, he tried looking around for a sign of life but was met with a piercing red gaze, boring deep into his soul. 

Growling on instinct, he tried to move his right arm to pick up his sword that laid on the ground, but all he saw was gushing blood from his shoulder. The maniacal laughter started again before he screamed. He could feel bile making its way up his throat.

“Hold him down!” 

“Where the fuck is the doctor?! He’s losing a lot of blood!”

Troy opened his eyes, screaming, vomiting on an unfortunate fool trying to hold down his legs. Pain. That’s what his body yelled at him.

“We need to put him under now! Sir, you can’t be moving!” someone yelled, he couldn’t make out where it was coming from. The world spun around him, hands all over him.

“Damnit! Damnit!” Troy screamed, “Fuck!” 

As he tried to make sense of his surroundings, the sound of jammed metal, whirring gears hurt his ears. He looked to his side and down: his mechanical arm had been ripped off all the way to the shoulder bone. The mixture of oil and his own blood created a pungent smell in the operating room. Wires cracked with sparks as the remaining gears struggled to move against the shrapnel. His metal collar that helped keep his now lost arm in place was severely cracked. Anger rose in him. 

“Where is that bitch?!” he yelled, trying to get up, “I’m gonna fucking kill her!”

He was met with more people pushing him down.

“Sir, please! We need to stitch yo- AH!” the individual was met with Troy’s left fist, knocking them over. Others in the room gasped, their grip on him lessened. Troy took the opportunity to sit up before someone grabbed him from the neck, slamming an injection into him.

“What the-!” he quickly turned, anger still evident in his mind. A bulky, tanned man decked in heavy gear, brown hair wrapped up in a bun with yellow eyes, grinned down at him, “Sorry Troy, lady’s orders. For your own good.”

“Donovan, I’m gonna beat the crap out of you…” Troy whispered, fell forward onto Donovan, who pushed him back into the table.

“What a mess, you guys have a good thirty minutes to patch him up. Someone send the techs the arm, double time everyone!” Donovan ordered, clapping his hands. The medics rushed around, relieved that Troy was knocked out cold. 

“You guys better do a damn good job cause nothing is going to save you from Lady Tyreen’s wrath if you all screw up!” Donovan barked out, laughing as he saw a medic jump and quickly start working on Troy’s injuries. 

The bulky man tsked, shaking his head. His boss was limp on the table. “Poor bastard…” he whispered, turning his gaze at the commotion on the operating room’s entrance. The ever so late doctor barged in, removing his psycho mask, going straight to Troy. The psycho doctor sported the common orange jumpsuit, although he was wearing a grey shit and a worn-out lab coat. Two medics poured water and alcohol on his hands, while another removed the blood soaked-up rags on Troy’s chest and shoulder.

“Man, he got fucked up,” the doctor said, picking up a scalpel, “at least his jaw didn’t get ripped off like last time.”

Donovan crossed his arms, staring at the doctor, “Doc Ed, not sure if that would have been better than the arm. If the monster had gone for his face, Troy wouldn’t be here.”

Ed quickly performed incisions, berating the medics as he moved from Troy’s shoulder to chest, to his lower torso. He shook his head while assessing the damage, commented, “Much of the damage was on his shoulder. The metal plating covering part of his side wasn’t pierced through, chipped, the techs will have to weld some extra metal part to patch it more. Lost of a lot of blood…” The doctor took out chunks of gears, plucking the exposed bone area.

“We’ll round up some worshippers for a blood transfusion,” Donovan informed, motioning at a guard at the door, “Lady Tyreen leaves him in your capable hands, doc.”

Ed hummed, singing to himself about stripping the flesh. Donovan hoped it wasn’t Troy’s he was planning to do that on. 

“What a freak…” Donovan whispered, looking up at a camera in the corner of the room, giving a thumbs up. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0

Tyreen gazed at the surveillance monitors, noticing Donovan’s thumbs up gesture. She let out a breath of relief as she saw Doc Ed continue working on her brother’s extensive injuries. The events that transpired earlier in the day were still registering in her head. 

Shuddering, she hugged herself, her Siren tattoos glowing faintly. The shaking still present in her. Part of her was glad she was the only one in the room, she couldn’t let others see her in this state. Her brother was reckless, but he always came out as the victor in any battle he took, triumphant. His mechanical arm at times would get worn-out, come apart, though their techs would fix it up.

Now, he laid in an operating table, life on the line as their best medics try to salvage what’s left of him. She was unnerved having watch him thrash in pain, blood squirting everywhere. For once in a long time, she felt helpless. Yes, she did have her “special” Siren powers to back him up, but that wouldn’t help him in his current state. She shook off the horrors they went through as children, pushing back on the memory of Troy losing his original left arm. 

“This is different, Tyreen,” she whispered, “this is different… he’s going to make it… He has to…” She fought back the urge to vomit, swallowing back the bile. She unglued herself from the monitors, unbearable watching the operation going on. 

Her gaze fell on the items on a metallic table near her. An extremely worn-out, tattered black trench coat with an imprint of a red snake on the left sleeve with grey fur trimmings, a leather bag, gun holsters, a grenade mod, a crimson glove for the right hand with crystals embedded near wrist area, a gas mask, and a pair of Jakobs Striker shotguns were the belongings confiscated from the culprit behind Troy’s injuries.

And for the deaths of at least 30 of their men that went to into battle with him. 

Despite the trench coat being drenched and covered in blood and guts, the shotguns looked as if they were new from the shop. As she recalled, their owner didn’t use them all. Instead, the remains and weapons of their men were “appropriated.” The gas mask had traces of corrosive element.

Tyreen walked up to the table, intent in reaching for the leather bag until a scream caused her to jump. Troy cursed up a storm, still struggling and pushing Ed off. Tyreen could see Donovan rushing over, trying to calm down Troy. 

“Okay… Okay… He’s alright…” Tyreen whispered once again, fixing her coat. She quickly checked herself over, making sure nothing was out of place. Satisfied, she exited the room, heading down a dim-lit corridor. Troy seemed out of the woods now, now she had to deal with their “guest.”

Normally she would want to inflict pain on someone hurting those closest to her, but she was wary on how to proceed after witnessing the carnage. As she walked down the corridor, Troy’s screams resumed. A wave of fear washed over her.

It wasn’t Troy’s screams that caused it, but the distant humming she could hear at the end of the corridor. 

To the holding cell. 

Her brother’s screams didn’t subside as she stopped in front of the heavy-duty cell doors. The humming didn’t stop, but she could hear the cell’s occupant singing softly. Both of the guards at either side of the door looked ill and perturbed.

“Blood stains the streets…  
Mothers weep at my feet…  
My heart is filled with ecstasy...

Children scream as they see,  
Daddy, mummy hanging from a tree,  
My heart is filled with ecstasy…”

Taking a deep breath, Tyreen stepped into the holding area, mentally preparing herself. In the center of the cell, a woman stood there, back facing Tyreen. She swayed back and forth, humming. The room reeked of decay and blood, the source originating from the woman. Tyreen inched closer to the cell, careful in not touching the electric wires and bars. 

The woman was taller than her, probably reaching Troy’s chin. Sides of her hair were shaved, excepting for the remaining short, green hair she sported as a mohawk, with the hair at the lower end of her head braided, mimicking snakes with the pattern. Her ripped tank top seemed to have been originally orange was now dark red, chunks of meat and gut visible. The asymmetrical pants were torn up to the woman’s left thigh, spots of dry blood everywhere. No shoes were confiscated, she was barefoot. 

Blood coated majority of her, but it could not hide the blue hue of the telltale marks on the woman’s left side of the body: Siren tattoos. 

Tyreen instinctually reached to her own left arm. Before she could speak, Troy’s screams stopped, causing the woman’s humming to cease. Tyreen froze as the woman quickly looked at her. The woman’s unsettling expression frightened her. It didn’t help that the woman’s left side of the mouth was scarred, stretching her grin a bit more. 

“It seems that they put my back-up singer under again, huh?” the woman asked, smiling. 

Tyreen stood there, trying to get calm herself down mentally. She inched forward.

“I have questions, and you will answer them,” she stated, thanking her nerves of steel for her voice not to falter.

The woman giggled, walking up to Tyreen, grabbing onto the electrified bars, ignoring the sizzling of her hands, “If you behave, I’ll answer them.”

It was going to be a long night.

-0-0-0-0-0-

The beeping and the whirring of machines stirred Troy from his sleep. He was met with straps pining him down to the makeshift hospital bed, anchored down with metal rods. Growling, he looked at the technician working on his mechanical arm.

“How long have I been out?” he asked, his voice hoarse. The nervous technician stopped, unsure how to respond. Troy’s patience was wearing thin, “I asked you a question!”

“Good lord, Troy, any minute later and you would have bashed the poor idiot’s skull in!” 

Troy winced in pain as he tried to see his guest. Donovan walked in, laughing. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny…” Troy growled, shooing off the technician away, “How long?”

Donovan pulled up a chair, getting himself comfortable, “A week, first two days you kept getting up and I’d have to stab you on the back literally to knock you out. Do you know how hard it is to listen to Ed ramble on about you being an idiot and re-opening your stitches?”

Troy rolled his eyes, scowling, “Poor you.”

The bulky man laughed again, helping Troy free his left arm and removed the metal rods from the straps. He offered the taller man a glass of water from the pitcher next to them. After downing it all, Troy opened his mouth several times, popped his jaw, faced Donovan, “Is Tyreen….”

“Tyreen is safe. Nothing happened to her,” Donovan answered. Troy relaxed, laying his head back, sighing.

“Ed said you are one lucky asshole. That fucking monster didn’t rip your metal plate, which kept your organs intact,” Donovan continued, “Can’t say the same about the others.”

“Dead, huh?” Troy whispered, lifting his mechanical arm, “I’m itching for payback…”

The other man shook his head, “Do you really? I mean, we both saw what that _thing_ did to the others. They literally melted! The fucking intel said she posed no threat and now look at you!”

Troy glared at Donovan, sitting up again, “Watch your mouth.” He ripped the straps, struggling to get up from the bed.

Donovan crossed his arms, disappointment written on his face, “Suit yourself, but don’t expect me to drag your corpse back here, gonna leave you out there for the local wildlife to eat.”

Troy lightly punched Donovan on his shoulder with his mechanical arm, causing the other to yelp, “Heh, good as new. Where’s Tyreen?”

Donovan rubbed his injured shoulder, answered, “Interrogating the prisoner, who has refused to utter a complete sentence, mostly giggling. Haven’t checked her out yet. No one but Tyreen has gone in.”

Nodding, Troy grabbed and put on his coat discarded on a chair, kicked the exit door open, limping out. He scared few medics on the hallway, Donovan quickly following him. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t tell me you’re going to go barge in! Ty- Lady Tyreen will get angry!” Donovan pleaded. Troy ignored him, weaving through the hallways, tuning Donovan out until he reached the surveillance room. The guards quickly stood up, saluting him. 

One of the main monitors displayed the inside of the cell, Tyreen being visible alongside the prisoner who was squatting in the middle of the room. Troy narrowed his eyes, “Open the door, I’m going in.”

The guards looked at each other, uneasy, “Lady Tyreen instructed us not to let you in sir…” Donovan shot him a ‘told you so’ look. Troy eased between the guards, grabbing one of them by the neck, “Open the damn door….” The free guard nodded, keying in a code and pushing a button. Before Donovan could protest further, Troy let go of the guard, heading to the cell corridor. 

He could hear the commotion of Tyreen’s voice through the intercom, cursing at the tattle tells. The guards at the door watched as it opened with a hiss, Tyreen stepping out, looking pissed off.

“Ty! Come here- OW!” Troy keeled over, holding his injured chest. Tyreen growled.

“You idiot! The one time I need you to obey my orders and you can’t do that?!” Tyreen hollered, forgetting others were around to seeing the siblings arguing, “You are to stay out!”

Troy straightened up, “’I’m glad you’re okay, brother.’ Thank you for caring, sister.” 

Tyreen threw her hands up, “I don’t have time for this Troy, watch from the surveillance room. I’m not having your near her!”

Troy shook his head, “Oh no, I’m not going to back there. I need to get even with that bitch in there for what she did to my arm!”

“I’m missing all the action, it’s quite lonely in here!” a voice yelled from the other side of the door. Both twins looked at each other, then at the door. 

“I know you’re there. I can smell your fear.”

Troy sneered, pushing past Tyreen and pried open the door. He winced as his eyes adjusted to the harsh light in the cell room. His eyes locked to red ones, similar to the ones that haunted him in his medically induced sleeps. Tyreen walked up to him, arms crossed, “You’re chatty now.” She made a mental note to chastise Troy later.

The woman grinned, “It’s the man of the hour! With your arm reattached!” She ignored Tyreen, grabbing the bars of her cell, shaking them, while looking at Troy, “I can’t wait to rip it off AGAIN!”

“Why you…” Troy inched closed, “I’m going to rip both of your arms!” He hissed, baring his teeth at the woman who cackled and returned the gesture. Tyreen stepped between them, pushing Troy back, “That’s enough!”

“Anyone swinging a giant sword is begging to have their arm ripped off! Compensating for a small dick!” the woman barked out, laughing, “I await your challenge boy band reject.”

Troy’s eyes widen, then glared at the woman, “You fucking bitch!“ 

The woman yelped as a shock was delivered to the collar around her neck, Tyreen pressing the button from a remote control.

“I will deliver a higher voltage if you don’t shut up,” Tyreen ordered. Troy felt that threat was also directed to him, quickly stepping back. 

The woman knelt down, trying to pry off the collar, yelping more as Tyreen increased the voltage. This didn’t stop her from giggling.

‘What is wrong with this woman?’ Tyreen thought.

-0-0-0-0

The room went quiet, save for the sparks of the electric wires surrounding the cell. Tyreen stopped administering the shocks. 

“You are one kinky girl,” you said, getting up, licking your parched lips, “I was not expecting that.”

Both twins stared at you, surprise and confusion evident on their faces. At least Troy was no longer spewing out threats and Tyreen put away the shocker control. You approached them again, resting your arms on a horizontal bar. Chuckling, you blew a kiss to Troy who looked horrified, “Your arm and I have a date, take good care of it.”

You bit back laughter as Troy stepped away, holding his re-attached arm protectively. All bark but not bite, you thought. 

“Are you going to answer my questions?” Tyreen asked, tapping her foot impatiently. You stretched, giving them a glimpse of your bony stomach, making way to the middle of the room. Finding a good spot, you sat down, crossing your legs as you rested your hands on your knees.

“Since you behaved, I guess I will answer some,” you said with a bored tone. Tyreen narrowed her eyes, taking this as a win for having to deal with you all week. Troy distanced himself to the corner, watching Tyreen and you. He didn’t want to be in the way of Tyreen’s wrath.

“What is your name?” Tyreen began.

You raised an eyebrow, “My name? Huh… Well, I get called a lot of names, there’s: witch, demon, plague, freak of nature, and, oh, a new one, monster!” 

Tyreen, glared, taking out the shocker’s control again, “Your REAL name.”

You lifted your hands in defense, “Alright, alright. No need to resort to the kinky shit. I go by Revig. No surname.”

The other woman nodded, satisfied with the answer before continuing, “The tattoos, do you know the meaning behind them?”

Checking your left arm, you pointed at them, “Siren tattoos?”

Tyreen began packing back and forth, keeping her gaze locked on to you, “You were found wandering the Wastelands, what was your business there?” You saw Troy lean forward, piqued to know the answer.

“Sight-seeing,” you responded.

“Barely able to stand, no food or water, and going through one of the most toxic places in Promethea, for sight-seeing?” Tyreen asked, stopped, giving you an exasperated look.

You shrugged, “You got me there.”

“Bullshit,” Troy responded, getting up, “Utter bullshit!”

Tyreen growled a bit, “Troy step back-“

“Troy is your name? Pft!” you yelled, holding your stomach in pain from the laughter, “What kind of name is Troy for a troll-looking motherfucker? Oh shit, Troy-Troll. There, your band name!”

“Tyreen let me in so I can knock her fucking face off!” Troy said, clenching and unclenching his mechanical arm. If looks could kill, you would have dropped dead.

“Tyreen? What a pretty name,” You purred out, “Reeks of power…Ow!” Tyreen was done with Troy and you, but at least she had the shocker to use on one of you. She amped up the voltage while Troy grinned.

Struggling a bit to walk, you held the bars again for support, “You are really turning me on Miss Tyreen, you got the magic hands…” you pressed your face as close as you could through the bars, ignoring the burns being inflicted on your skin while staring down at Tyreen, “I was searching for the prick that has been spreading lies about me.”

“About?” Tyreen pressed on. She didn’t stop the voltage.

You grinned, your sharp canine teeth glowing against the blue hue of the electricity, your red eyes shining, “Bad enough to be a Siren, especially when someone spreads the rumor that you are a ‘pacifist.’ Puts a bigger target on your back, you know?”

You bit into your lip, giggling, “Had fuckers coming in to get a piece of me before, but now with that, I get to see more action, sometimes it’s hard to keep up. I still need to work on my stamina.”

“The intel…” Troy muttered, “Fuck.” He let out a frustrated sigh.

The voltage stopped. You grinned, “Oh, intel?”

Tyreen growled, angry, “Of course, that’s what got our men killed. The damn bastard gave us phony intel.”

“Oh!” you faked gasp, “Pray tell, who is this damn bastard? Perhaps he’s the douche I’m looking for?”

“I’ll get Donovan to get in contact with the source guy, he’s gonna have to respond to this shit,” Troy said. Tyreen crossed her arms, “Should have checked this out before moving ahead with the plan…”

You made a tiny cry for attention, but the twins ignored you, arguing about this “plan” of theirs. After a while, you slumped down on the floor, laying on your back, zoning them out. You closed your eyes, humming a tune. Didn’t last long before another zap woke you up.

“When I get my hands that thing I’m going to shove It right up your nostrils and see how you like it!” you barked out, immediately sitting up, “Oh…”

“We are not done yet with the questions,” informed Tyreen, ignoring your outburst.

“Anything for you Miss Tyreen,” You replied, giggling at Troy’s look of disgust. 

“Your powers. You didn’t use them when my men were fighting you,” Tyreen asked. You gazed at Troy, then back at Tyreen.

“I didn’t need to,” you replied flatly. A sharp glare from Tyreen kept Troy back. At this point, you could tell he was agitated. Luckily for you, he wasn’t in the possession of the shocker. 

“Didn’t need to? That’s hard to believe,” Tyreen stated. You lifted your shirt up, exposing your stomach, almost visible ribcage, and pushing down on your eyebags.

“You said it yourself earlier, I’m half dead. I haven’t eaten anything in the past few weeks. All my energy I spent it _defending_ myself from your guys and Troy-troll over there,” you shot back, a hint of anger in your tone, “I was there, minding my half-dead business and who do I see flying down towards me? Troy-troll, swinging his Compensating-2000 blade!”

“Are you going to let her insult me like that? Shock her!” Troy whined out, causing Tyreen to roll her eyes. She was getting exhausting keeping Troy from breaking into the cell and rip your arm off and trying to get you to keep talking while dealing with your rants. 

“What kind of power do you have?” continued Tyreen, putting away the shocker and out of Troy’s reach. 

You smiled, “How about I get a question answered? What are _your_ powers?” You pointed at her left arm, “It’s not every day two Sirens cross paths, much less knock the other one out while fighting a troll and his men.”

The tattoos glowed faintly on Tyreen’s arm as she lifted her hand up, removing the glove, bringing it closer to you. A crackling noise emanated from the tiny magenta orb she created, a sudden wave of cold hit your face.

You quickly took a step back. You could’ve sworn you felt your energy being sucked out. Tyreen chuckled, finally happy about getting an opposite reaction from you, “Yes, this is my power. Knocked you out real quick, back there. Be glad I didn’t kill you on the spot for what you did to Troy.”

You nodded, placing your hands on your hips “Yeah, thanks for _not_ killing me.”

“Too bad we need you alive, otherwise I would have torn every limb from your body,” Troy interjected, standing next to Tyreen who still had her orb active. The gears in his arm whirred as he clenched his fist.

You kept nodding your head, not breaking line of sight with them, “You two are so cute. Really. With your ‘be glad we didn’t kill you’ threats and shit.” You flicked your left hand at them.

“Don’t push your luck,” Troy and Tyreen said at the time. You at least gave them credit for pulling the intimidation posture right now.

You looked down at the ground, staring at your feet for a while. Tyreen deactivated her orb, Troy banged at the cell bars with his mechanical hand, causing sparks to fly. 

You burst out laughing, a hand on your head and the other on the stomach before charging at them, screeching. 

You stuck both arms out through the bars, trying to grab Tyreen, immediately causing the twins to fall back, out of reach. Troy pushed Tyreen behind her, shielding her. She was visibly shaken, looked on as you laughed, struggling to reach them. 

The scent of burnt skin wafted around in the room, the lights flickering due to the surge in the current. 

“You two are fools! Fools as I say!” you yelled, eyes dazed, “The moment these fucking tattoos appeared, I was a dead woman walking! Go ahead and give it your best shot!”

“What are you doing?! Stop it!” Tyreen ordered, but this further pushed you to press your body into the electrified bars. Troy banged against the wall, shouting for someone to shut off the power.

__  
“Blood stains the streets!  
Mothers weep at my feet!  
My heart is filled with ecstasy! 

_Children scream as they see!_  
Daddy, mummy hanging from a tree!  
My heart is filled with ecstasy! 

__

You sang out, relishing the look of horror of your captors. 

__  
“Tell your friends if you see,  
For what the witch seems to be,  
Crazy, her head is filled with lunacy,  
I might just explode with ecstasy! 

__

A loud bang was heard from outside, followed by the light bulbs exploding. Troy shielded Tyreen from the broken shards. The cell went dark for a second, the emergency lights kicked in, flooding the room in red. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Troy asked, moving aside to let Tyreen walk about. The older twin carefully approached the cell, intent in finding a charred body. 

“Your electric current sucks.”

“No way…” Tyreen whispered.

You were still standing, burn marks decorating your skin. If anything, you were annoyed, pissed. However, Tyreen noticed that the marks were slowly disappearing.

“I’ve been maimed, stabbed, shanked, electrocuted, just about all the works,” you began, the red light casting an ominous shadow on your face, “Go ahead and give it your best shot, kiddos. See if you can top the other pricks out here.”

“She’s fucking insane,” Troy said.

‘No,’ Tyreen thought, ‘She is what we are looking for.’

-0-0-0-0-00—00—0

Troy sat pensive on a chair in the surveillance room, staring into nothing. Three days had passed since he awoken up from his weeklong coma and having to deal with his mechanical arm reattached. 

Three days from also dealing with a monster that was a Siren.

True be told, he and Tyreen never met another Siren, only heard rumors of their activities, so when intel arrived that a potential Siren was in their territory, it was too good of an opportunity to pass by. Especially when the intel stated the Siren was a pacifist.

Of course, that turned out to be untrue. The pacifist part that was.

Thirty men dead and one arm ripped off, Troy was coming to terms that he was possibly _frightened_ of you. After your little electrifying show, he and Tyreen hadn’t gone back, instead opting in “checking” through the surveillance room. It made visiting the cell room less eerie with the red lights still active after you fried yourself on the cell bars. 

_” I’ve been maimed, stabbed, shanked, electrocuted, just about all the works.”_

No wonder the shocker collar did any damage. 

_Go ahead and give it your best shot, kiddos. See if you can top the other pricks out here._

A challenge? Perhaps. Was he and his sister up for it? He wasn’t sure. Normally he’d be the one to execute whatever torture plan Tyreen came up with on their prisoners, but this time, he wanted to steer away. For now.

As much as he was angry for losing arm, he’d have to swallow back his pride on enacting revenge. If what you said was true about not using your powers during the fight, he mentally thanked that you didn’t rip his jaw off like Donovan said. 

Those involved in the capture were off dead, close to death, traumatized, or avoiding the cell area. During his coma, Tyreen had ordered no one to speak about the events outside in the compound lest they wanted to be thrown in the cell with you. Shut them up real quick.

Troy rubbed his face in frustration, growling. His head spun still with memories, vivid memories of his mechanical arm being ripped off. He hated to admit it, but the sensation threw him back as a small child, watching as the man, who had sworn to protect him and Tyreen, pulled his arm, twisting it and pulling it off his shoulder socket. Little Tyreen’s screams were replaced with his men yelling for their lives.

Laughter.

The man’s laughter replaced yours as you looked down at Troy, his mechanical arm in your hands as you crushed it easily like a porcelain doll. Your foot pressed down on his chest causing pain as you bent over, red eyes wide. 

_”This will teach you not to mess with me, boy. You and your freak of a sister are only alive because I say so! Steal another thing from me and I will rip your other arm off,” you threatened, however, your voice coming out masculine._

Troy reached to pat his right shoulder, all sound he heard was metallic and gears. The red eyes flashed in his mind. It reminded him of snake eyes, locking on a target. He gulped, smacking his cheeks to wake up. 

“She’s in there, I’m out here…” Troy whispered.

“Who’s in what?”

Troy jumped, quickly facing the room’s new occupant. Tyreen walked up to him, chuckling, “Still spooked?” She took a seat next to him, checking the surveillance monitors.

Troy huffed, crossing his arms, “Like you are one to talk. You were about to shit your pants there.”

Tyreen reached over to him, lightly smacking his left arm, “Same to you, little brother. Probably the first time I’ve seen you scared of a grown woman.”

“That is not a woman, it’s a monster,” Troy responded.

“A Siren like me,” Tyreen countered.

Both got quiet. Tyreen played with the hem of coat, fidgeting with the buttons. Troy shook his head, leaning back against the chair, creaking under the pressure. An old scenario they used to have multiple times as kids.

“You are NOT a monster, sis,” Troy offered, running his hand through his hair. 

“I’ve been called those same names,” whispered Tyreen, gazing at the monitor displaying the cell. You were squatting down in the middle of the room, playing with the dirt on the floor. Crude drawings of Troy and Tyreen were visible, with the word “Troll” and a skull above her brother and “Siren” and stars, hearts around hers. Next to them was a drawing of a cardboard box with you inside, kitty ears and tail. Except you had drawn a psycho’s mask instead of your face.

“To the bandits here, we are Gods,” Troy continued, “They are willing to throw their lives for us!” He stood up, pointing at the other monitors displaying different angles of their large compound. “We built this, we will get through with this. She’s not going to get in the way of our plans!” 

Tyreen sighed. She, too, relished being worshipped as a deity after many years of name calling and threats of death. But this felt different. 

Every prisoner taken begged for their lives, for another chance, to serve them body and mind. There were few who were reluctant but bent after torture. Troy’s imposing stature and bloodthirstiness with his blade and her Siren powers were the law and order with the Children of the Vault.

You, on the other hand, laughed and spat back, going as far as taunting them. To add insult to injury, even when Tyreen showed a bit of her Siren powers, you managed to one-up her by deliberating hurting yourself, showing off that you were able to take anything thrown at you and still stand up. Others would have lowered their head in submission.

This threw her off. Throughout the week Troy was out cold, whenever she composed herself in front of you, you pulled the rug under her. Whenever she made threats, you smiled as if you were talking to a child. Whenever she thought she was able to read you, you quickly changed your actions to confuse her.

She was _used_ for others to do her bidding due to fear. You followed along to get a reaction.

“The plan will continue with no delays, we need to keep her low profile as possible,” Tyreen said. Troy grinned, nodding in agreement, “Donovan has an update on the source of the intel.”

“Did he find the guy?” Tyreen asked, switching through the camera feeds.

Troy shook his head, “No, bailed immediately. Fucker probably heard of what happened in the Wastelands and high-tailed it out.”

“I still want that man found. No one crosses us,” Tyreen ordered, her tattoos glowing. Troy was about to call into the Echonet when rattling spook them both.

“Hello, yoohoo!” your voice rang through the coms. Troy groaned, switching the display to show the cell feed. You were shaking the bars again. Fortunately, there was no electricity feeding through them. 

“I know someone is in there!” you yelled at the camera, “I’m drowning in my own stench of the dead and blood! As much as I love a good slaughter, I NEED A SHOWER!”

“Huh, Troy escort her to the showers,” Tyreen waved off at him. 

“What!” Troy exclaimed, “There is no way I’m getting near her. Send someone else!”

Tyreen looked up at him, “Are you going to let her get the better of you. You should know by now she’s trying to get under our skins.”

“Fine, whatever, call some guards,” Troy replied, defeated. Tyreen threw a pair of cuffs at him, ignoring Troy’s complain of the item not being enough on a ‘freak’ like you.

It was going to be another long day.

\--0-0-0—0-00-0-0-

 

You whined, banging your head against the cell door. Outside these walls you were able to bathe in questionable waters around Promethea. Now, your dirty deeds are costing you.

“Shower… ugh, I need a shower…” you wailed, sliding down, “I have been forsaken.”

The main cell door hissed open, Troy and two other guards coming in. You perked up at the sight.

“Oh, my prayers have been answered!” you giggled, grinning.

Troy glared at you, keeping his distance. No joke, you heavily stunk. He ordered one of the guards to cuff you. You obliged by putting your hands out through the bars. The guard’s hands were shaking as they placed the cuffs, snapping them shut.

“What are you doing?” Troy asked.

“I.. uh… oh…” the guard stuttered. They had cuffed your hands outside the cell, preventing you from pulling your arms back in. You grinned, hitting your cuffed hands against the bars.

“Stop that ruckus!” Troy yelled. You ceased, putting a pouty face. The guard uncuffed you, had you move your hands through the larger opening where food was slid through. You kept still, watching the guard shaking a bit more as they placed the cuffs again with a snap.

“Good job!” you said, clapping as best as you could. The other guard snickering while their companion moved back to allow Troy near the locked cell door.

“Alright, that’s enough. We are taking you out for a shower. You better behave,” Troy ordered, opening the cell door. You hopped out, giggling, “Aye sir!”

Each of the guards grabbed your arms, leading you off with Troy tailing behind. You hummed to yourself, looking around in amazement through the halls and rooms you passed by as they led you in a huge tiled room with rows of showers. Letting you go, the guards removed the cuffs, exiting the showers to guard the door. Troy remained behind.

You rubbed your wrists, moving them around before looking at Troy, “All of them work?”

Troy looked impatient, nodding. He didn’t want to utter a word based on what Tyreen said of your antics.

“Hehehe…”

You skipped forward to a stall, turning on the shower. Cold water hit your face causing you to suck your breath in. Water splashed on you as you admired the murky water running off from your dry blood clothes. It felt refreshing, having forgotten the sensation of clean water. You busied yourself by rubbing off the dirt and grime from your arms, grabbing a questionable piece of soap stuck to the wall.

Troy leaned against the wall, staring at you. He half expected you to screech or bounce off the walls the moment you stepped out of your cell, but you behaved, surprisingly. He kept quiet, observing. 

Your wet clothes stuck to your body, giving him a view of your extreme thin frame, the consequence of lack of food. Despite that, the Siren tattoos glowed faintly across your sick skin. He was caught off when you removed your shirt, followed by your pants and flopped them to the side. You kept your boxers on for a while, but discarded them too. 

Troy looked away, feeling awkward. He figured you were going to shower with your clothes on since he was in the room, clearly you didn’t care. He glanced a few times, taking notice of the large snake tattoo on the right side of your back, going down your spine and ending above your buttocks. The design wasn’t crude, but extremely detailed. Whoever inked it did a hell of a job if they dealt with you. 

“Hey.”

Troy blinked, locking gaze with you. You were holding out your wet clothes, back still facing him, “You got a working dryer around here or are those for decoration too?”

“Huh? Oh, no, they don’t work,” Troy replied. You were unfazed by his staring.

You raised an eyebrow, “Where can I put these to dry?” You shook your clothes, water dripping out of them. Troy called one of the guards, ordering them to take the wet clothes.

“I better get that underwear back, you hear!” you yelled at the guard who scurried off. Troy chuckled at that. 

“Are you going to offer me a towel, or do I need to prance around naked?” you asked, shutting off the water. You ran your hands through your hair and braids to squeeze the remaining water out. The snake tattoo was complete when you were lifting your arms up. Troy huffed, grabbing an old blanket laying over some supply crates. He offered it to you from a distance, closing his eyes when you walked over to him to grab it.

“I’m not going to bite,” you said, drying yourself off and wrapping the sheet around your body like a makeshift dress.

“You ripped my arm off,” Troy replied, trying not to get angry. He opened his eyes and stared down at you.

“I ripped it, yes. Did I bite you? No.” You asked, putting your hands on your hips, “Unless you want me to, hehehe.”

“I’ll pass,” muttered Troy, “now hands out, I need to cuff you.”

“Kinky,” you whispered, complying with his order. Troy ‘gently’ pushed you out of the shower room, signaling the two guards to move along. 

“Sir, Lady Tyreen requested for the prisoner to be taken to the medical wing,” informed one of the guards. Troy grunted in acknowledgement, following behind. He heard you mutter something about needles and knives.

Maybe here they’ll find something to use against you. Troy hoped so.

-0-0—0-0-0-0—0

Arriving at the medical wing, the group was greeted by Tyreen who was standing next to doctor Ed. He was sharpening rusted scalpels.

“You have a psycho for a doctor?” you asked, surprised, “And here I thought I had seen everywhere…”

“I’m capable!” Ed yelled, removing his mask, “Can’t wait to work on you, ehehe…”

“Oh…!” you squeed, received odd stares from everyone in the room. 

Troy guided you over to Tyreen and Ed, mumbling about your antics. The doctor gave a toothy grin as he moved aside to show you his medical instruments. You awed at them. 

“Doc Ed will give you a check-up, I expect you to behave,” Tyreen stated. You swished your makeshift dress around, nodding, still staring at the instruments. Troy removed your cuffs and dead shocker, discarding them on a medical tray. From the cell incident, your neck marks were slowly fading away.

You sat on the examination table, Ed rolling up on the chair, poking and prodding you around. Tyreen and Troy kept guard, curious at what the doctor would find. Ed scribbled notes in a data pad, examining your eyes, mouth, and ears. He took notice of a special tag clipped on your right ear with the number ‘6’ printed on it. 

He paused while checking your right arm, displaying your large scar from the wrist area down to your elbow.

“Feels thin in some parts, small scabs present, you have frequently scratched it, not allowing it to heal properly,” Ed said out loud, dousing a clean cloth with alcohol from the medical tray, pressing it on your forearm. 

“I stripped the flesh there a long time ago,” you whispered, giggling.

Ed froze, hands slightly shaking, “D-Did… Did you salt the wound…?” He pressed down on your arm.

“I did!” you replied. Ed giggled enthusiastically, receiving a menacing glare from Tyreen. He coughed, gently patting your arm before proceeding to your neck for the shocker wounds.

“Behave,” Tyreen reminded you. You pouted, but nodded, “Do you like my dress, Miss Tyreen?”

“It’s hideous.”

“Thank you!” you chirped, staying still as Ed wrapped bandages on your neck, “By the way, where are my Guts & Glory?”

“Your what?” Tyreen asked, looking at Troy who shook his head. 

“My Jakob shotguns. The Strikers,” you replied, “My other belongings as well.” You eyed Ed when he received a set of needles and an IV bag from a medic. This went noticed by the twins.

“Your belongings are under key, no one is going to get to them,” Tyreen answered, “A word Ed?” 

Ed gently patted your bandaged neck, admiring his handiwork. He instructed the other medics to finish off while he followed Troy and Tyreen to an upstairs office, the observation room.

“What is the outlook?” Tyreen asked, checking over the medical records displayed before her. 

Ed moved around several hologram screens, “She is severely underweight, as expected. We need to give her fluids through an IV for now before giving her food unless you want to deal with her throwing it up everywhere.”

“Alright, so we have to fatten her up, pretty much?” Troy added.

Ed nodded, “From the data of the previous experiments conducted by Lady Tyreen, if we want to raise the chances of a successful energy transfer, yes. Although, please remember those were ‘normal’ people… Not sure how it would work on a Siren.”

“Weaker ones didn’t survive, healthier ones survived but remained in a vegetative state,” Tyreen added, bring up another screen with images of corpses with health records and IDs attached. Each of them were run of the mill bandits, worshippers who wanted to please the twins. The fallen became the stepping stone for this moment.

“Rumors say that if a Siren dies, another is reborn somewhere in the galaxy, inheriting the previous Siren’s power,” Troy whispered, grabbing one of his red shards that had a dim glow before dying out, “I hate to wait, but if this is going to work, I’m willing.”

“We have another batch of worshippers ready for the next experiment, willing that they help you,” Ed informed, “Their energy should last you for a while longer, Troy.” 

Tyreen eyed intently the images showcasing the test subjects shriveled up, glancing down into the medical room where you sat, hooked up to an IV. You were busy chatting with one of the medics. Your current state reminded her of those test subjects. Dead.

_“I’ve been maimed, stabbed, shanked, electrocuted, just about all the works.”_

Your words rang in Tyreen’s head. The distinct flickering of the blue hue of the screens reminding her of the electricity coursing through your body as you stared down at her during your speech. 

_“Go ahead and give it your best shot, kiddos. See if you can top the other pricks out there.”_

She accepted your challenge. All for the sake of the plan. For the sake of Troy.

You kept talking before pausing, slowly looking up at her in the observation room, smiling before mouthing something.

‘Bring it on.’

They were dealing with a psycho.

A psycho Siren.

**Author's Note:**

> Background for the story: This is based on the theory of Tyreen and Troy having sucked out the power of a Siren they captured judging from the Mask of Mayhem teaser video showing a woman (girl?) with broken wings. The wings were used on Lilith and Tyreen who are Sirens, not sure why Maya wasn’t displayed with them. Following from that, the powers are used to keep Troy alive. Of course, I'm switching it up.
> 
> I was not expecting to write this much. I’m very hyped for Borderlands 3 especially since one of the villains is a confirmed Siren. Steele didn’t count much since she never truly fought against the Vault Hunters in Borderlands 1, not counting the Claptrap DLC. 
> 
> I hope I didn’t screw much of the dialogue since I wanted to emphasize the scatterbrain, whiplash mood Reader. The reader’s appearance is set since, if I continue this, plays a part in the story.
> 
> Just a quick info: Donovan and Ed are OC Borderlands characters of mine. They are well acquainted with the twins, speaking without titles, but out in public, they’ll address them accordingly. The guards kept around are pretty much under threat if they utter anything.
> 
> I usually draw out some scenes, but I'm extremely rusty with my art and lack time. Comments are appreciated.


End file.
